


A Poisoned Chalice

by Jakaboi



Series: A Poisoned Chalice [1]
Category: Escape the Night (Web Series)
Genre: Don't copy to another site, Gen, S3 spoilers, after Mat's death, corrupted!Mat, slow burn corruption
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-01
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:14:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25016041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jakaboi/pseuds/Jakaboi
Summary: You’d think a second chance at life would be a blessing, but there’s a reason things are supposed to stay dead.
Series: A Poisoned Chalice [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1939222
Comments: 8
Kudos: 36





	1. Death

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SamWithACrown](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SamWithACrown/gifts).



> So when I started writing this it was only going to be a one-shot, but I’ve had a few ideas for how I could continue it if people are interested. So if you enjoy it, please let me know.

They tell you death is natural but they’re lying, there was nothing natural about Mat’s death.

The one challenge where his brilliant mind was completely useless. Where everybody knew the way it would end from the moment it was announced as men only.

He stands in the middle of an endless void, a low heavy fog swirling over the ground so he can’t see his own feet.

He isn’t alone.

Over this way, he can watch his death repeating over and over. It’s on loop. It will never end, and his final words keep screeching while he watches his ‘friends’ run away. Mat holds a hand to the side of his head.

Is it possible to get a headache when you’re dead?

The game was rigged. The first purely physical challenge and half the group aren’t allowed to be voted for. Someone wanted Mat dead, and they wanted him dead now. Why? Who knows?

The death scene still looping, the fog clears a short distance away revealing a church. Everlock’s church. There’s something inside, something...off. But the longer Mat looks, the more he realises that it’s nothing. It doesn’t matter. It’s small fry.

“Get the Lazarus coin!” he hears himself scream again.

There are two people outside the church, and they’re beckoning to him. They want him to come closer. Trying to walk through the fog is impossible though. It’s like he’s in treacle. He can’t move closer.

And why should he? Who are they? And why should he trust them? Just because he was dead didn’t mean he was an idiot. Mama Patrick didn’t raise her no fool. No. He won’t go to them. That’s just what they want.

He turns and freezes.

Before Mat stands his double. His equal. His exact match. It’s like looking in a mirror, his ‘reflection’ raising its hand as he does. Pressing a finger to his nose, it matches him. No matter what motion he makes, it copies him. But something is wrong, something is off, because though this thing is his equal in every way, it has a worrying smirk tugging up at the edge of its lips.

“Stop.”

Mat’s voice reverbs around the void, and the reflection’s smirk draws wider.

“Stop it!” he snaps.

The reflection slowly shakes its head.

“Why not?”

Raising a hand, the figure reaches forward, breaking the illusion of a mirror and pressing a single finger to the centre of Mat’s chest.

There are no words; there is no threat; but the intent is unmistakable

Mat looks up to the emptiness above them as he hears three strums of some harp. When he looks down again the reflection is gone, everything is gone, it’s just him and the fog. Yet he can still feel it. Nothing’s really gone.

He flinches as a blinding light consumes the void and swallows him whole.

Like I said, death in Everlock is not natural.


	2. Fear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning - choking (vague description from choker’s POV)

Being alive isn’t what he remembers. Something’s wrong. Not that he has time to figure it out. Not even five minutes back from the dead and they’re already putting him to work.

Whatever, it’s fine. He wants to help. This is why he’s here. Not because they miss him, which stings, but because without him none of them will make it out of here.

Except for Willy’s funhouse. Because of course he’s the first one captured and taken away. It would only be fair if he wasn’t.

And of course he’s the one who finds the message ‘The Carnival Master has corrupted one of you’. It’s like a giant middle finger to his brief re-existence. Back in the Divine Lounge, his head firmly off the chopping block, against every screaming instinct, he shares it with the others.

Naturally the finger of suspicion gets pointed at him and Mat tries to laugh it off. Of course it’s nonsense. There is no way this Big Bad has laid his wrinkly fingers anywhere near him.

Alright, so maybe Mat fudged the truth a little when Joey asked what he’d seen just after he was back. The truth would only raise questions that they really don’t have time for. Besides, they already seem pretty wary of him.

Safiya’s death is painful.

Maybe it’s the feeling of invasion; that monster just waltzing right into their safe zone. Maybe it’s the lack of fairness; the twisted rules that never make any dang sense. Maybe it’s because he knows where she’s gone.

As he stands over her body something stirs in the base of his gut. Angered. Feral. Enraged. Then Nikita, the ‘Troublemaker’, spews that callous bile from her mouth and Mat turns on her.

“You don’t have to say it with such an attitude! SAFIYA DIED!”

“She voted me to die and she got what she deserved.” Nikita throws her hand into Mat’s face and begins bitching. “If that was-”

Mat shoves her against the wall, his fingers wrapping tightly around her throat and squeezing.

Everyone shouts but Mat only has eyes for the panic on Nikita’s face.

“I’m getting pretty _sick_ of your selfishness.”

A low growl gently rumbles deep in his chest as he squeezes and-

“Mat!”

Ro’s voice cuts through the fog.

Everyone is staring, Nikita’s choking, manicured nails desperately trying to pry him off. His fingers twitch, her breath hitches. What is he doing?

Dropping his hand from ~~his prey’s~~ her throat, Mat steps back, looking around at the others before quickly heading for the door.

They’re shouting after him.

No doubt they have questions. Mat does _not_ have answers.

He just needs air.

That’s all.


	3. Rage

Fat Man Slim’s.

Mat sits in a booth, fingers drumming against the tabletop as he waits; waits for the winners to return. Not Ro. Against Joey and Manny she has no chance. The same duo that took him down; it’s morbidly poetic.

Nikita is there as well. They’ve sat in silence since the others left but it couldn’t be more clear that she has something to say. She’s glaring daggers at him from two booths over, fingers also drumming with a distinct clacking sound.

“You should have been been cursed.” she scowls.

It’s not untrue. He’d tripped, fallen to the ground like a graceless duck, a witch right on his tail. She’d stood over him with her wand raised, but the curse never came.

Mat stops drumming, nails gently scratching at the tabletop.

He doesn’t know why she didn’t curse him, there’s a bit of a hole in his memory over that precise second. I mean, there’s a kind of half-baked thought that he might have _growled at her?_ But that can’t be right. It has to be some kind of hallucination.

“Funny. I was thinking the same about you.” he comments, continuing to scratch.

Not like himself, where she was allowed free when she should have gone down. No. He just really likes the thought of her fighting for her life again. Maybe she would actually die this time.

“How dare yo-!”

The outrage is interrupted as the boys return.

Joey.

Manny.

No Ro.

Nikita rushes to her feet but Mat stays in place, continuing to scratch. It’s a very calming gesture. Even as he hears his nails scraping harshly against the wood. The satisfying drawn out scriiiitching helps him to focus as his mind turns over his position.

Safiya is dead.

Ro is dead.

Those who survive are the ones he kind of most wishes weren’t still around.

“Mat!”

Joey’s shout brings him back, head whipping to look at the others. They stand, Joey in the front, then Manny, then Nikita, all of them staring at him with wide eyes.

“What?”

“The table!”

Mat looks down at his hand, seeing four deep grooves that it would seem he’s carved into the table with his fingers, which is very odd. Pulling his hand away, he looks at his fingernails. They’re a little bloody from the scratching, but almost look sharper. A little more like talons. Or is he imagining that too?

That should probably worry him.

Tracing his fingers over the grooves, he huffs a laugh before pushing himself to his feet, hooking his thumb on the pockets of his pants as he turns to the others. They all take a step back.

“Tell me,” his voice is worryingly even, “did you even give her a chance?” Looking between them, he receives no answer, not that he expected one. “That’s what I thought.”

This is what they wanted isn’t it? To be at the top. To be the last ones. Mat may stand with them, but he’s just a tool to them. He smirks, before turning and heading for the door, back to the lounge.

If they want to play dirty, he can play dirty.


	4. Vengence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: instance of throat grabbing (threat but with no choking)

Joey seems upset.

The pair of them are handcuffed. Mat has an ankle brace. There’s a very simple game involving beanbags which will no doubt set them free. Neither of them have bothered to figure out any more, instead just staring at each other.

“What’s wrong with you, Mat?” Joey eventually says. Probably meaning to aim for concern but missing by a mile and landing squarely in ‘whining brat’. “Ever since you came back yo-”

“I’ve been thinking about it.” Mat’s voice is calm. No need to be loud. No need for dramatics. He already has the moron’s attention. He’s going to be heard. “I’m going to kill you.”

“Me?! Manny’s the one who _killed you_!” Joey’s voice shakes but still seems confident. It’s probably the restraints.

“Manny will get his.” Mat assures him with a soft nod. “But we’re talking about _you_. See, _everything_ is your fault.”

Mat gives a mighty yank on his restrained ankle and hears a satisfying crack as he breaks his foot free of the pole. Joey’s eyes go wide.

“We’re here because of _your_ lies.” Mat steps forward, rage simmering just beneath the surface. “I was in that challenge because of _your_ cowardice. And I’m _back_ ,” Mat snaps, barely keeping from spitting, “because of _your_ arrogance.”

“You can’t!”

Mat raises his eyebrows.

“ _Can’t_?”

There’s a loud snap as Mat tears his handcuffs apart like crepe paper and a clink as the chain falls to the floor. In barely three strides, he crosses the space between them, seizing Joey by the throat, his sharp claw-like nails digging into the pale flesh.

“Say that again. I _dare_ you.”

He feels the nervous swallow beneath his fingers and smiles as Joey is smart enough to keep his god damn mouth shut. Letting go of the neck, Mat gently pats at Joey’s cheek, loving the slight shake of the Savant.

“Let’s get you out of these cuffs.”

“But I thou-”

“You _want_ to die now?”

“No!”

“Then shut up.”

Mat steps away.

Killing Joey now is too good for him. It would be too gracious. Done and over in a flash. No. Mat wants him to suffer before the sweet release. After all he’s done, it’s no less than the selfish prick deserves.


	5. Chapter 5

Turns out that killing Joey is the easy part, the fool getting captured and taken away by zombies. All these magnificent creatures with power and presence, and in the end the walking corpses are what take him down. It’ll be slow, painful, and better than he deserves. The best part is Mat doesn’t even have to lift a finger. All it takes is a little patience and Joey is minced meat.

Satisfaction. There’s no other word for the warm comfort that washes over him as the timer hits zero. The kind of contentment that can only come from feeling fulfilled. It does however leave them still stuck in this town. And Nikita is a whole other problem.

It’s curious how she seems to have grown a conscience. All night she’s been practically gleeful in letting her friends die, even helping some along, but since she killed Manny she seems concerned about ‘doing the right thing’, as if that’ll wash the blood from her hands.

It isn’t too hard to talk her down. She’s tired. She’s alone. All she really wants is to go home, and with Joey dead Mat’s her best hope. She knows it. She can see it. He’s changed, not just physically. There’s been a fundamental shift at his core; gone is the light-hearted boy scout and before her stands something that he doubts she has the capacity to truly comprehend. Something that even _she_ knows shouldn’t be fucked with.

Mat isn’t exactly happy about her continued survival, but he’s no idiot. This endgame wasn’t made to be beaten by a solo survivor. As much as he hates it, he needs her to get out.

The challenges are a breeze, especially once they realise the undead won’t come anywhere near him. Makes that hangman’s hood a bit of a waste but cuts who knows how much time off their problem solving. Plays against them when they have to identify the zombie mother but Nikita proves to have her uses.

With the life stones, and soon the instructions, the pair summon the ‘fallen champions’. A man, a woman; miserable as sin yet surprisingly familiar, like a face you can’t quite place. But it doesn’t matter right now. They have a Carnival Master to destroy.

As the five of them stride towards the church, the ‘champions’ keep exchanging glances. They’re not subtle. Still they walk in silence. The church is where they’re going, everything else is pointless. All that matters is getting out.

The Carnival Master is waiting but ultimately unprepared. The ‘champions’, Mat scoffs, take him so easily. It’s laughable. Even so, as he watches them fight, something stirs in his gut trying to drive him forward and join in. There’s no doubt he could take them all. It’s easily ignored. No point putting himself at risk, however small it may be, when these two strangers are willing to do the dirty work.

Finally the Carnival Master falls.

“You did it!” Nikita practically cries in relief.

“That means we can get out right?” Mat looks between the strangers and his instincts flare. Something isn’t right. Why are they so familiar?

The man holds Mat’s gaze as the woman reaches an arm towards Nikita. The Troublemaker doesn’t even blink, rushing to hide behind them. She hides her face against the man’s shoulder, not even able to look at Mat any more.

“I’m sorry Matthew” The woman says. Sorry?

“What are you talking about?” Mat turns gesturing towards the other end of town, “Just open the gates.”

There are no more words. Nothing but sorrowful looks from the traitors. They each place a hand on Nikita’s shoulder, and cross their chest with their other arm. The air around them sparkles gold and glows.

“NO!!” Mat rushes at them, his claws closing around stardust as it drifts away. They’re gone, “YOU CAN’T _DO_ THIS!! YOU CAN’T _LEAVE_ ME HERE!!”

He rages! Screams and shouts turn gutteral! His cries echo around empty buildings that are devoid of life. There are no monsters. There are no people. Everlock isn’t real. It never has been. It’s a cage, wrapped in magic and danger. Designed to hold creatures that the Society against Evil deem too dangerous for the world.

It held the Carnival Master.

And now it holds Mat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a lot of ideas for a sequel if anyone would be interested in reading that.


End file.
